


Code Frasier

by ligmageass



Category: Code Geass, Frasier (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22912261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ligmageass/pseuds/ligmageass
Summary: After the events of Resurrection, geass fragments have spread across the world, gifting their powers on the just and the unjust alike. Among those on the receiving end are Seattle psychotherapist siblings Frasier and Niles Crane. Lelouch and C.C. must now travel to Seattle to determine if they pose a threat.
Relationships: C.C./Lelouch Lamperouge | Lelouch vi Britannia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	1. Seattle's Most Wanted

**Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find worthwhile fandom contributions will be ridiculed; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot.**   
**BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR [sic]**   
**-Mark Twain**

Lelouch was reading the Stockholm dailies when the call came on the secure line. Grateful for a respite from Swedish crossword puzzles, he answered. It was Lloyd calling, on business. Within thirty minutes, his bags were packed and false passports located. As he finished, C.C. returned to their suite. 

“Where are we going this time?” she asked, lying on the bed with a sigh. Her tone was casual.

“Seattle, Washington,” he replied coolly. “Ever been there?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “I don’t like rain. How come you never take me anywhere nice?” 

“I don’t pick where there people show up,” Lelouch replied, getting annoyed. “There are two of them this time, so we’ll have our work cut out for us.”

“Two of them?” C.C. rose and walked over to the minifridge that sat in the corner of the suite. She pulled out a bottle of Fruktsoda and worked its lid off. “Do they know each other?”

“Better than that. They’re brothers.” 

“Oh?”

“Drs. Frasier and Niles Crane. Both psychiatrists.”

“Psychiatrists eh?” C.C. gave him a teasing smile. “You’d better have your wits about you then. Brothers are close too, I bet they work well together.”

Within the hour, their private flight had departed from Stockholm Arlanda Airport, en route to New York.

**ONE WEEK EARLIER**

Frasier Crane was in an excellent mood that early October day. Traffic hadn’t been bad on the way into or away from KACL; he hadn’t gotten into an argument with Roz, his producer; and his radio show’s call-ins had been pleasingly grateful to have his advice. 

“Dad! Daphne! I’m home!” he called, crossing the threshold and hanging his coat up. To his dismay, he saw that his usually tastefully arranged apartment was instead littered with Seattle Mariners paraphernalia. Pennants adorned the walls, green and blue garland hung from the ceiling, and a bust of Ken Griffy Jr. stood watch from over the fireplace.

“Hey Fraiz!” his father, Martin Crane, called, walking into the living room from the terrace with the usual aid of his cane. “What do you think of the new layout huh? Pretty cool, right?”

“Yes, well as you know, I am not the _biggest_ sports fan in the world-”

“You could say that,” Martin added.

“And therefore I’m afraid that I don’t quite understand what’s going on here,” Frasier finished.

“Well, the Mariners made it to the wild card game this year, and back in April when the season started, you said:” Martin leveled a finger at his son, smiling triumphantly, “that if the Mariners made the playoffs this year, I was allowed to have people over to watch.”

Caught, Frasier threw his arms up into the air in frustration. “Oh, how was I supposed to know they would actually start winning?! They haven’t made the playoffs since 2001!”

“Oh, it’s no use throwing a fit Dr. Crane,” came an English-accented voice. Daphne Moon, Martin Crane’s healthcare assistant, came in from the terrace as well. “A deal’s a deal, and if you’re an honorable man, then you’ve got to honor it!”

“Yes, I just happen to have an abundance of honor and good taste,” Frasier admitted loftily, “So I suppose I must concede this time. I’ll just see what Niles is doing tonight instead.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed, only to hear a ringtone from the opposite side of his own front door. 

“Damn. If he’s here, then he mustn’t have any other plans either. Come in!” he called.

Niles entered, looking unusually disheveled and carrying a rectangular-shaped package under his arm the size of an encyclopedia, which he heaved onto the coffee table with great effort. Shaken, he finally looked up and saw the decor.

“Good God, what has happened in here?” he asked. “Was Dick's having a sale on all things garish green?”

Frasier chuckled as he walked over to Niles, his brother and partner in snobbishness. “Dad is having a Mariners-viewing party here tonight, I don’t suppose you’ve got anything planned for this evening with which we may-” he paused and glowered at his father, who smiled back sunnily from his beat-up recliner. “Divert ourselves?” 

“As a matter of fact I do,” Niles replied. “I just happen to have two tickets to _Faust_ tonight. Care to join me?”

“Oh, hello Dr. Crane!” Daphne called, carrying a salsa bowl and depositing it on the five thousand dollar living room table. “I’m so excited to finally see playoff baseball! Your father keeps telling me about how exciting it is!”

“Yes, well I am also very much looking forward to it as well-” Niles began, looking past Frasier to stare at her, hastily straightening his suit. “Niles get ahold of yourself!” Frasier grabbed him by the shoulders and forced his brother’s attention back onto him.

“I’m sorry, what?” said Niles, still distracted.

“Uh, why don’t you tell me what’s in that package over there? It seems to have given you quite a bit of trouble on your way up.”

“Well, I don’t know, to tell you the truth. It was a gift from my secretary.”

“On what occasion?”

“She said it was from her father, a geologist. She said it gave her ‘the creeps’ and so she gave it to me.”

“She unloaded it on you, you mean.”

Niles gave Frasier a confused glance. “No it was definitely a gift,” he insisted.

“Would you stop arguing and open the damn thing already!” their father called from his recliner. “You’re killing me over here!” He now wore a Kyle Seager replica jersey which, upon seeing it, caused Frasier’s glower to darken. 

“Yes, if only we were…” He turned to Niles again. “Oh just open it already Niles!”

“Very well, but not until you apologize for insulting my secretary.”

“Excuse me?”

“You insinuated that she was just ‘dumping it off on me’, thereby inadvertently calling her rude. I’ll have you know that she is a very capable woman and...Frasier what are you doing?”

“I’m opening the damn thing myself!” He ripped off the wrapping paper, revealing an ornate wooden box, tied with a ribbon.

“Well, now speaking of rudeness!” Niles began. Frazier was already undoing the ribbon. “Opening someone else’s packages is just-”

“Ah, I’ve got it!” Frasier reached inside and pulled out a triangular hunk of rock about eighteen inches wide and seven inches tall at its peak, which gradually sloped down to the ends. Frasier was speechless for a few moments. “It’s some kind of rock,” he finally said.

“Yes, well, I told you her father was a geologist.” 

“Hmm, there seems to be some kind of mark in the middle of it.” Frasier brought the rock closer to his face.

“Really? Let me see,” said Niles, putting his head next to his brother’s.

“Yes, it seems to be some kind of strange-looking heron…” Frasier began, before they were both suddenly blinded by a flash of red light. Frasier dropped the rock into the salsa bowl with a cry as he and Niles fell backwards onto the couch, screaming in terror and covering their eyes in vain. The bowl shattered, leaving salsa and glass pieces all over the table and the rug. Daphne gasped.

“Aww, what did you go and do that for?” Martin cried in dismay. “You could’ve put my eye out!” He stood and saw his sons in agony. 

“Daphne, call for an ambulance! Quickly!” he shouted. She ran for the phone and dialed the emergency number.

It was as if the red light had invaded their very minds, rearranging their thoughts and leaving that red heron shape permanently imprinted into their brains. Amidst their anguish, they each heard a voice from somewhere far away.

_Geass..._


	2. Dawg Eat Dawg

While in the air, Lelouch poured over the personnel files produced by their contacts in the Pacific Northwest. Data on Frasier was easy to come by: he had a daily talk radio show during which he served as a kind of “Dear Abby” with a psychological bent. Lelouch wasn’t sure how useful five-minute psychiatry for everyone to hear could be, but it was apparently doing quite well for the elder Dr. Crane, judging by his expensive apartment in Elliot Bay Towers. He shared the apartment with his father, one Martin Crane, retired police officer. The younger brother, Niles Crane, was somewhat more reputable; a behavioral psychiatrist with a lucrative private practice. According to the society pages of _The Seattle Times_ , both siblings were somewhat infamous for their arrogance, snobbery, and continual one-upmanship. 

Their plane landed in the dead of night at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. From there, they took an Uber to the Hyatt Regency Seattle. If the girl behind the reception desk recognized the Demon Emperor Lelouch as she slid their room card across the counter, she didn’t give any indication. 

“What do you suppose they plan to do with their Geass powers?” C.C. asked casually in the elevator.

“I don’t know,” Lelouch admitted. “From their profiles, I bet that Fraiser will use his on something shortsighted. He seems to fly off the handle quite often on his radio broadcasts.”

“I agree,” said C.C. “He’ll probably throw some kind of huge party and invite all of this city’s social elite over to try to impress them. It’s probably Niles that we’ll have to watch out for. Who knows what that guy’s after.” 

They were off the elevator and walking along the hallway of the 45th floor, on their way to an executive suite.

“How can you tell that?” Lelouch asked. “We don’t even know what kind of Geass power he has!”

C.C. slid the key card through the electronic lock and opened the door. “It just seems like something he’d do.”

“If you say so.”

*******

“Next we have Cecile, from Seattle. This is Dr. Frasier Crane. I’m listening.”

“Dr. Crane,” said the voice on the other end of the telephone, “I’m afraid my husband isn’t attracted to me.”

“And what makes you think that?” asked Frasier in his soothingest soothing baritone.

“Well we’ve been married ten years and he rarely initiates sex,” Cecile told him. “In fact when I try to get physical with him, even just touching his arm or something, he freaks out.” 

“Hmm,” Frasier was now deep in thought, his analytical mind working at full capacity. “When was the last time you, ah, slept with your husband?”

“Well..” Suddenly, a voice on the other end shouted “SEE TWO, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON THE PHONE?”

“I take it that’s your husband,” said Frasier.

“Sorry Frasier, gotta go,” Cecile said. “See you tonight!”

Frasier frowned. Now what on earth could she mean by that? He didn’t remember having any “Cecile” on his guest list. Then again, the woman on the telephone could have easily been using an alias.

As his caller hung up, Frasier knew he was doomed. He could feel the evil eye emanating from his producer’s booth without having to look up. “Well, that’s all the time we have today folks! Stay tuned for sports with Bulldog Briscoe after these messages!” He grabbed his briefcase and began to stand, but a shadow soon fell over him.

“So, Frasier, I heard that you’re having the party to end all parties tonight?” Roz stood over him in the broadcast booth, preventing him from getting out of his chair.

“W-well, I wouldn’t exactly say _that_ -” Frasier began, pulling nervously at his collar.

“Well, here’s what you should be saying instead, Frasier: ‘I’m too snobby to invite my only friend, the beautiful and charming Roz Doyle, to my fancy party tonight because I’m afraid that she’ll embarrass me in front of all of the high society people that I’m trying so desperately to impress!’ How’s that?”

“Oh come on Roz, you know I would never think of you that way!” Frasier said desperately, leaping from his chair and snatching his briefcase. “It’s just-”

“Just what?”

Frasier collected his dignity before telling an egregious lie.

“It’s just that...my brother Niles insisted that we leave you off the guest list!”

“Niles! That smarm!”

“Oh, I tried to convince him Roz, but it was no use!” Frasier moaned, with hammish sincerity. “He just wouldn’t let his perfect evening be ruined!”

“Well, you just tell Niles that Roz Doyle is gonna be there,” Roz declared, jabbing her finger into Frasier’s chest. “You’ll back me up, right Frasier?”

Frasier was cornered. “Well, if you insist, I suppose Niles can be made to endure it,” he acquiesced. Roz beamed.

“What’s this I hear about a party, Doc!” In stormed five feet and seven inches of bristling, bald masculinity, clad in a Mariners replica jersey and jeans. It was Bulldog Briscoe himself, arriving with his signature gong. “How can you have a party without the Bulldog?”

“Oh, can it Bulldog,” Roz snapped. “This party is for people with class only. Got it?”

“Ah, come on Roz!” Bulldog said with a grin. “You know you’re dying to take me!”

Frasier remained cool on the outside, but inside, his mind was racing. Roz had a certain charm to her, sure, but Bulldog Briscoe’s attendance at his party would be nothing short of an unmitigated disaster. But for all of Bulldog’s usual bluff and bluster, one truth still held: once The Dawg had something in its jaws, it didn’t let go. What could he do?

Unless…

Frasier grabbed Bulldog by the shoulders and stared directly into his eyes.

“Hey Doc, what’s with your eyes, they look kinda glowy-”

“Bulldog, if you go to Frasier Crane’s party tonight instead of whatever sporting event you originally planned to go, your masucline image in the eyes of your friends will be irreparably shattered and they’ll never look at you the same way again!” Frasier bellowed.

“Y-you’re right Doc,” Bulldog said, tears welling in his now red-rimmed eyes. “I’ll go to the game tonight.”

“Bulldog, what’s wrong?” Roz asked.

“It’s just,” Bulldog wiped his nose with his jersey, eliciting frowns of disgust from Roz and Frasier. “What the doc said...it really cut to the heart!” he burst out, running from the room and leaving his gong behind.

“Well it’s a good thing you convinced him, Frasier.”

“Why is that, Roz?”

“Well, the Mariners are playing the Yankees tonight in New York and the winner goes to the ALCS. Bulldog would never live it down if he missed it.”

“The ALCS?”

“The American League Championship Series!” Roz gave Frasier a whack on the arm in indignation. “The next round of the playoffs! Practically all of Seattle is gonna be watching tonight! It’s gonna be close to impossible for me to get a date!”

“Oh no!” Frasier cried. “My guests!” He sucurried out of the booth at top speed in his usual ridiculous manner, his arms flapping about like a piece of paper taped to the blade of a fan.

This must be serious, Roz thought. He hadn’t even tried to insult her.

***

Back at the Hyatt, Lelouch was on his third hour of plan formulation. They knew Frasier’s address and the party’s start time (9 pm) thanks to a hack of the Chair of the Opera Board’s laptop, who was obviously at the top of Frasier’s invite list (Lelouch had guessed the password, “Tristian und Isolde”, on his first try). They still had no plan of attack and it was now 8 pm.

“Dammit!” he cried. “There are still too many unknowns! Without knowing his Geass power, I can’t make a plan! The tasks at hand will never be cleared!”

C.C. stood in front of the bathroom mirror, carefully inserting her earrings. “Why don’t we just show up there?” she asked. “If we act important enough, there’s no way that Frasier guy is gonna refuse us.”

“But what about their Geass? There are two of them, remember?”

“Just don’t look them directly in the eye,” she replied, walking out and pulling Lelouch’s Emergency Tuxedo from their luggage. “It’s not like it’s gonna work on me, so I can handle them if I have to. You just use that big brain of yours to figure out what they want.”

“That’s...just crazy enough to work.”


	3. The Frasioning

By 9:30 everything was going exactly as Frasier wanted. His penthouse apartment was practically overflowing with Seattle’s social elite mingling amiably with each other and complementing the food Frasier had painstakingly prepared and served by Daphne, who at the very least wasn’t complaining about it. However, there still remained thorns in Frasier’s side. Niles had arrived wearing a large pair of dark sunglasses and carrying a long briefcase, contents currently unknown. They had quarrelled at the threshold.

“Niles, good heavens, what do you have on your face?!”

“I know that you plan to use your Geass on everyone at this party tonight, and I refuse to be under the influence of something so unethical,” Niles said sternly.

“But Niles, you have a geass power too!”

“That’s neither here nor there Frasier.”

“If you didn’t want to get Geass’d so badly, why did you even come then?”

“I came to make sure nothing bad happens to Daphne,” Niles said loftily.

“As if I can be expected to believe that!” 

“Believe what you like, but it’s the truth.”

“Well, what am I supposed to tell these people? Surely you don’t want the Chair of the Seattle Psychological Association to think that you’re some kind of weirdo?” Frasier reached to remove Niles’ glasses, but Niles lunged out of the way, almost falling into the bathroom as he did so. As more guests began to arrive, Frasier eventually lost track of his brother.

The other issue was his father, safely stashed away in his bedroom watching the Mariners game on television. Out of sight should have been out of mind, but the old man had a particular talent for soiree-ruination that one had to always be mindful of. Frasier had taken the precaution of stuffing towels (not the good ones of course) underneath the door to muffle the sounds of Martin arguing with the umpire 3,000 miles away. 

“Frasier, this is quite the party!” exclaimed Alan Murchie, Chair of the Opera Board, still oblivious to the fact that his cyber-security had been compromised by a former pair of Brittanian terrorists. “I don’t think I’ve had as good a time as this since my first wife left me!” His second wife, trailing behind him with one of Frasier’s homemade macaroons, nodded appreciatively. 

“Well, I’m just delighted to hear that!” Frasier said, putting on his most ingratiating smile. 

“Yes, it certainly is good to get away from that horrendous sporting talk that’s been bludgeoning my ears over the last week. Everywhere I go, it’s Mariners this, Dream Season that, it’s all just so vulgar!”

“Yes, I quite agree,” said Frasier, mentally settling in for another one of Murchie’s infamously long-winded diatribes. His wife had already abandoned the two of them in search of Daphne and the macaroon tray.

_ This is the perfect time to use my Geass on him, _ thought Frasier.  _ With my Geass power, I can see into his subconscious and see his deepest phobias and insecurities. Armed with that information, it’ll be a cinch to convince him to get me onto the Opera Board… _

A sudden knock on the door startled him out of his machinations.

_ Everybody’s already here, who the devil could this be?  _ Frasier wondered, opening the door with another plastic smile. Standing in the foyer were two people he had never seen before: a tall, skinny man with violet eyes that seemed strangely familiar and a woman with peculiar green hair.

“Well, aren’t you going to invite members of the Britannian aristocracy in?” The green haired woman asked.

“Why, of course!” Frasier said, still smiling but now thoroughly confused. “So glad you could make it!”

***

Fifteen minutes later, Niles had finally managed to ensconce Daphne in the kitchen, where she was loading more macaroons onto a serving tray.

“Dr. Crane, how are your eyes feeling?” she asked. Niles was still wearing his sunglasses.

“Well, much better now that you’re here!” Niles declared clumsily.

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear it,” Daphne said, laying a friendly hand on Nile’s arm. Niles shivered from the ecstasy. “You know, me Grammy Moon used to have a bit of a healing touch. Do you think I’ve inherited it?”

“Well, I suppose it’s possible,” he said, lying through his teeth. “But more importantly, how could Frasier be so ghastly as to ask you to serve his guests as if you were some kind of maid rather than an eminently qualified healthcare professional.” Daphne paused from her loading.

“You know, Dr. Crane, you’re absolutely right!” Daphne declared. “I have half a mind to march right in there and give Dr. Crane a piece of my mind, and damn what those society bigwigs think!” She put the tray down and picked up a wooden spoon with which to pound Frasier’s chest.

“Yes Daphne, an excellent idea!” Niles concurred. He was about to expound on the specific ways in which she could destroy Frasier’s plans but he was interrupted by the arrival of an extremely excited Roz Doyle.

“Daphne, you just have to see the guy who just arrived!” Roz squealed.

“Oh do I?” 

“Yes, does she?” Niles asked pathetically.

“You remember Demon Emperor Lelouch right?” Roz asked.

“Well of course I do!” Daphne replied. “He was one of the most horrific dictators the world has ever known! He practically enslaved us all!”

“Yeah, but do you remember how hot he was?”

“Ooh, do I!” Daphne and Roz shared a grin.

“Well, there’s a guy here who looks just like him! And he hasn’t committed any horrific crimes against humanity!” To Roz, this was enough to go on.

“That you know of!” said Niles, desperate to deflate the situation.

“I overheard him say that he’s a monarchical historian from some university in Pendragon, but he’s also some kind of distant royalty!” Roz supplied, having fallen for Lelouch’s hasty cover story hook, line, and sinker.

“Is he with somebody?” Daphne asked.

“Just some skinny green-haired girl.”

“Are they, you know,  _ together _ ?”

“Well, it depends on who you ask.”

“Who did you ask?”

“Well, she said they were, but he keeps blushing and not answering the question.”

“Yes, Roz, and in your world, that’s enough to go on isn’t it?” Niles said, sure that his quip was witty and devastating enough to win Daphne back to his side. However, by the time the words were out of his mouth, the two women were gone.

_ Well, I suppose it’s time for me to unleash my own Geass, _ Niles mused, removing his glasses and revealing a red heron design in his right eye.  _ In a duel for Daphne’s heart, I shall not lose. _

***

After several minutes of fretting, Frasier finally plucked up the nerve to approach the strange couple. They stood by the hors d'oeuvres table by his apartment’s enormous windows and the green haired woman was making short work of the canapés. 

“See Two, knock it off,” the raven-haired man hissed. He had seen Frasier approach and elbowed her in the ribs.

“Hey knock it off, I’m trying to eat here!” she hissed back.

“Enjoying the canapés?” Frasier asked with forced politeness.

Startled, the woman dropped her tray with a clatter. Canapés spilled onto Frasier’s immaculately cleaned floor and he forcibly suppressed his urge to scream with rage. He closed his eyes and fought for control. Not his floor! At the sound of the tray falling, all eyes turned to the three of them and Frasier felt a cold sweat on his neck.  _ I will not have my party ruined, I will not have my party ruined, I will not have my party ruined.  _ Frasier repeated this mantra until he believed it and opened his eyes again.

“I’m so terribly sorry,” the woman said quickly, kneeling down and hastily throwing the canapés back onto her plate. The man sighed and approached Frasier.

“I’m terribly sorry about all this,” Lelouch said, offering his hand. “My name is Julius Kingsley, and this is C.C. She prefers to go by her initials, I’m afraid.” Frasier nodded, as if this was the most natural thing in the world (it wasn’t). “

I’m a monarchical historial at Clovis University. We’re here as friends of Alan Murchie. He kept going on about how much he was looking forward to this party, so we accepted,” Lelouch finished. His calculated flattery had its desired effect.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley! Of course!” Frasier remembered that the woman had said they were aristocracy and added a little bow. “I’m just glad you could make it!”

“Likewise,” Lelouch replied smoothly.

Frasier’s mind worked quickly. If they were visiting from out of town, then he wouldn’t need their help in the future. However, their presence was an unexpected factor in his plans and in order to make the party a success, he would probably have to use his Geass to neutralize them anyway. He wasn’t about to leave Pity, they seemed like nice enough people. He finally caught the thin man’s eyes and prepared to use the power.

“These really are excellent canapés!” the woman chirped, suddenly popping up between them with a smile and throwing Frasier off balance mentally and physically. He caught himself on the wall, barely avoiding irrevocable damage to his Paxton, and looked at the man again. Lelouch’s attention, however, was elsewhere.

“I’m going to go have a word with Mr. Murchie,” Lelouch told the two of them. “I’ll be right back.”

He stepped down into the throng of the party and cut his way through Murchie, laying a hand on his shoulder. Frasier couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the way Julius Kingsley looked straight at the man seemed strangely familiar. 

_ Surely he can’t… _

Frasier turned back to the woman, but all traces of a smile were gone from her face. Her peculiar golden eyes suddenly seemed a lot more threatening.

“Dr. Crane, we know about your Geass.”

The game was on.


	4. Niles Whips It Out

Lelouch was trapped. They had descended on him as soon as he had turned away from Alan Murchie, taking him by the arm and cutting off all escape.

“So, Professor Kingsley,” Roz began. “Do you get to talk to many members of the royal family in your line of work? Or do they not like it when you dig up their deepest secrets?” She pressed her torso against Lelouch’s upper arm, turning him red as a tomato. There wasn’t as much muscle there as she would have liked, but now was not the time to fret over it.

“W-well, I can say that I have had my disagreements with the royal family,” Lelouch replied truthfully, hopelessly out of his element. 

Lelouch’s mind raced. _I’ve got to get these women off me_ _before Frasier puts his plan into action! And then there’s Niles to worry about! I still don’t know what’s in that package he’s been eyeing all night! Is this part of Frasier’s plan? To immobile me while they take out CC?_ As far as he knew, Niles was still in the kitchen but could emerge at any moment. Unfortunately, he had never found much success in dealing with women. The one with the accent was saying something but he hadn’t been paying any attention.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked, putting on the casual tone he had once used in Ashford Academy a lifetime ago.

“I said, did they ever find out who killed Prince Clovis?” Daphne asked again, turning Lelouch towards her. “He was rather dashing-looking, wasn’t he? Not as dashing as you are though, Professor Kingsley!” Lelouch’s blush deepened.

“Oh, Daphne, you know that Demon Emperor Lelouch killed him!” Roz declared with a scowl, pulling Lelouch back towards her. Daphne scowled. “Speaking of,” Roz continued, “Are the rumors about him and Suzaku true?”

“W-which rumors do you mean?” Lelouch stammered. “Rumors about who and Suzaku?”

“Demon Emperor Lelouch of course!”

“A-and what might those entail?”

“We-e-ll…”

***

Back by the window, Frasier was frozen in terror. These two strangers had somehow discovered his plan and had crashed his party in order to stop it. If his guests found out about his true intentions, he’d be completely ruined. He’d been colossally embarrassed before, but this would take the proverbial cake. Fortunately, he still had an ace up his sleeve.

“So, you’ve discovered the motive behind my little gathering here this evening,” Frasier said in his most impressive voice. “I take my hat off to you, young lady. However--”

“I’m not young,” C.C. interrupted.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I’m not young. In fact, I’m much older than you, so you should be a little bit more respectful.” She tossed her hair disdainfully. 

Frasier frowned. “Well, how can that be?” he asked, too puzzled to keep playing the villain.

“I’d rather not say,” C.C. replied loftily.

“Well, be that as it may!” Frasier continued, still flustered, “I won’t you stop me! I’ve dreamed of this for too long! I, Frasier Crane, will become one of Seattle’s most distinguished citizens!” As he spoke, he strode up and down the hors d'oeuvres table like Mark Antony at Caesar’s funeral, no longer looking at C.C. but instead at some imaginary audience in the distance. “When my name is spoken, everyone will nod their heads in acknowledgement of my magnificent stature! I’ll never have to wait for a table at Le Cigare Volant again! They’ll put my radio program into nationwide circulation! Finally, I’ll have the respect I deserve! And I won’t let you stop me!” He looked back into her golden eyes and activated his Geass power. 

_ I’m in a bit of a bind, but there’s no situation where a bit of psychological warfare won’t help me,  _ Frasier told himself.  _ There must be something in her mind that she’s afraid of, something that I can exploit. _

C.C. sighed

“Honestly, Fraz, you disappoint me,” she said, reaching past him for the shrimp cocktail on the table and eating one. “Your Geass power won’t work on me anyway. Why don’t you just end this farce? Wouldn’t you rather have people on your side because of your own accomplishments, not because they fear you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. It’s obvious to me that you’re only doing all of this so you can assuage your own feelings of betrayal towards everyone in the room for failing to see what a patrician you are. Your need for acknowledgement obviously stems from your massive self-absorption and when you don’t get that recognition, it’s devastating isn’t it?” C.C. looked at Frasier like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Honestly, aren’t you supposed to be a great psychiatrist?”

Frasier staggered into a nearby chair, desolate. “But if all this is true, even if I do get what I want, I’ll never be able to be happy, will I?” He looked at C.C. for approval, hurt and admiration in his eyes. “You’re quite the psychiatrist yourself, miss…?”

“You can call me C.C.” She bit into another shrimp.

Frasier smiled.

“I guess I was starting to act like the Demon Emperor himself for a bit there, huh?”

“Even he learned his lesson eventually.”

“Yes, well hopefully nobody ends up impaled upon a sword before the evening’s through,” Frasier joked.

_ Honestly, he doesn’t seem to be that bad of a guy, _ she thought, remembering a time long ago and a young Britannian boy for whom she had played something of a psychiatrist. Among other things. But then again she’d come to learn that it often took another person’s perspective to sort out one’s own feelings.

“Okay Dr. Crane, there’s still one problem we’ve got to solve,” she said.

“And what’s that?”

“I need you to tell me what your brother’s Geass power is.”

“I honestly don’t know,” he told her. “He hasn’t told me anything about it since we both got our powers.” Out of the corner of his eye, Frasier noticed Niles moving purposefully across his living room, his eyes locked on the mysterious man with purple eyes.

“Although, we may be about to find out…”

***

The sight of Daphne clinging to that man’s arm was enough to drive any sane man mad, Niles Crane would later reason. But in the moment, after poking his head out of the kitchen and seeing the dreadful sight, he was simply incapable of any reason and could act only on instinct. He strode swiftly across the room towards his target.

“Oh, great, here comes Niles,” Roz groaned. “He’s still got those ridiculous sunglasses on, too.”

Lelouch froze. There was simply nowhere to run in the apartment save for the bathroom (which would entail abandoning C.C. and cutting off all means of escape) and if he let Niles get too close to him, he’d be at the mercy of the man’s unknown Geass power. To complicate things further, those two annoying women were still holding his arms, which now seemed more like guards escorting a condemned man to the gallows. Niles’ mysterious package remained under his arm.

“Hello, Roz,” Niles said in his nastiest faux-polite voice. “You’re certainly more aggressive than usual. Falling behind on the Madame’s monthly quota, are we?”

“Now Dr. Crane, there’s no need for that,” Daphne cut in. “Roz and I were just getting a bit of an education from the Professor!”

“Yes, I’m quite sure you are! However, I think it’s time I taught a little lesson of my own!” Niles opened the package with a flourish, revealing a pair of suspiciously sharp-looking dueling sabres. Roz and Daphne gasped and backed away. Niles tossed one at Lelouch, who immediately dropped it from a combination of shock and usual lack of athletic ability.

“Pick up your weapon, knave!” Niles commanded, brandishing his own sword. “We shall settle this like men!” Behind him, all background chatter ceased, and the partygoers turned towards the commotion. Frasier and C.C. pushed their way through the crowd.

“Niles, good God, what on Earth are you doing!?” Frasier snapped when he reached his brother’s side. He reached for the sword, but stepped back as Niles swung it at him.

“I know that there’s no Julius Kingsley at Clovis University!” Niles announced, his composure continuing to decay. “Frasier, this man is an imposter!”

“Yes, I know Niles, but please, you’re making a spectacle” Frasier pleaded, grabbing his brother’s shoulders. He turned towards Lelouch. “Just give him back his sword, please, the party’s over.” Lelouch looked at C.C., who now stood at his side, much to Roz’s chagrin.

“It’s okay, Frasier’s working with us now,” she told him. He shrugged and moved to hand the weapon to the older brother.

“No Frasier, it’s worse than that!” Niles cried. “This man is a scoundrel, and I won’t have him seducing Daphne!”

“Really Niles, what’s gotten into you anyway?” Frasier demanded.

“I can very well be seduced by anyone I want to be seduced by!” Daphne put in.

“You see, Daphne, I happen to have stumbled upon a certain, shall we say,  _ talent, _ ” Niles explained, resuming his grandiose speech. “A talent that allows me to relive any event in a person’s life, sixty seconds at a time!”

Lelouch paled.

“That’s right, I know who you are!” Niles’ eyes shone with madness. “You’re the man who killed his own father! You’re the man who enslaved the entire world! You’re the Demon Emperor Lelouch!” Niles brandished his sword again, pointing it directly at Lelouch’s throat. “And now I shall duel you for Daphne’s honor!”

The entire room went silent, waiting on bated breath for Lelouch’s response. Instead, it was Frasier who broke the silence.

“Anybody care for another macaroon?”


	5. Goodnight Seattle, We Love You

The time had finally come. Lelouch had been demure long enough in the face of his enemies. Subtilty and cloak-and-dagger schemes had their places, sure, but in his book there was no substitute for good old-fashioned bombasity. He smiled his familiar villainous smile. 

“Very well then. It appears that my secret is out!” He flung his arms up dramatically, extending the cape that was not there. “My name is not Julius Kingsley...My name is Lelouch vi Britannia, the Demon Emperor!” Next to him, C.C. rolled her eyes as the assembled guests gasped.

“Now, really, how gauche!”

“Indeed!”

“What a terrible thing to say!”

“I can’t imagine anything in worse taste!”

“Really Frasier, is this your idea of a party surprise?” Alan Murchie put in.

“W-well, you see it’s actually a statement about the universality of totalitarianism…” Frasier began, but could not finish.

“You’re not getting away with this,” Niles told Lelouch, with the infinite confidence of a man who is supremely out of his element. He whipped the sword in Lelouch’s hand with his own, motioning for the Britannian prince to raise it. “Come now, let’s have it out!”

Lelouch sneered. “Look at the people around you, Crane. Nobody believes a single word that you’ve said. Just give it up now.” 

Frasier and Niles looked around. 

“Oh, not you!” Lelouch snapped at Frasier.

“I’m very sorry, uh, your Majesty.” Frasier scratched his neck nervously.

“Don’t call me that!”

“Well, what should I call you?”

“Don’t call me anything!”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Frasier, stop bootlicking so fervently,” Niles told him. “It’s unbecoming.”

“Says the man trying to start a swordfight!”

“And I shall succeed!” Niles cried, lunging clumsily at Lelouch, who parried with equal gracelessness.

What followed was a ballet of physical ineptitude. The crowd scattered in abject terror as they swung their sabres at each other. Their blades met only occasionally, and each occasion was punctuated by a triumphant grunt by the defensive party, as if they had outwitted the other rather than preserving their own life by a thread. By any law of physics or mathematics, they should have accidentally impaled the other within the first fifteen seconds, yet up and down the apartment they went, leaving utter destruction in their wake. The collective cultures of every continent suffered a serious blow across the span of one minute; African statues, European philosophy tomes, and reproductions of South American architecture lay in waste. Eventually, one of Lelouch’s horizontal slashes missed Nile’s throat by a good six inches and ripped through the framed Paxton above Frasier’s fireplace. In the split-second it took Lelouch to free his weapon, Niles batted it out of his hand with the first proper maneuver used by either of the pair.

“Surrender now, and I may yet spare you,” Niles commanded, his eyes gleaming with madness behind his sunglasses.

“Niles! My Paxton! It’s destroyed!” Frasier wailed.

“Oh shut up! You know that thing is a fake anyway!” Niles turned back to Lelouch, who struggled to keep his cool. 

_ This is bad,  _ he thought.  _ Will he actually cut my throat? Does he have it in him? I have my Code, but reconstructing myself in C’s world is too risky! His sunglasses are still on, so I can’t use my Geass!  _ He glared up at Niles, enraged at having been beaten. 

From the bedroom on the other side of the wall behind him, a steady thumping sound could be heard. Then, a cry went up.

“And a-one!” THUMP

“What the devil is going on in there?” Niles asked, suddenly distracted.

“And a-two!” THUMP

“Oh, no.” Frasier rubbed his forehead, having just remembered. “That’s where I put…”

“AND A-THREE!”

With a great crack, Frasier’s bedroom door burst open. Out spilled Bulldog Briscoe, followed by Martin Crane and several other sexagenarians. 

“SOMEBODY GET THE TV ON IN HERE!” Bulldog screamed, knocking Niles and Lelouch down and barrelling through the crowd. “IT’S THE BOTTOM OF THE NINTH AND THE MARINERS ARE UP!” The old-timers behind him gave a shout of approval. Martin tried to sneak past his son, but could not escape Frasier’s grasp.

“Dad! What the hell’s going on!” Frasier demanded.

“Well, the TV screen in there suddenly stopped working, _ completely unrelated to somebody throwing the remote at it _ -”

Frasier threw his head back in revulsion.

“So we had to knock the door down to finish watching the game out here!” Martin turned on his best 100-watt smile. “After all, you did promise that I was free to have people over to watch the playoffs. You wouldn’t go back on your word now, would you?” Frasier saw a white light and then his senses shut down. He fell backwards across the couch and lay there unmoving in complete despair.

The remote was finally located and the television in the living room turned on. Seattle’s elites could no longer resist their patrician urges and sat side by side with Martin and his friends, waiting in ecstasy to see the pride of Seattle to advance to the World Series. 

Lelouch and Niles struggled to their feet, looked at each other, and tapped the other on the chin with a clenched fist in the world’s worst cross counter before tottering over again. C.C. walked over to the pair, took Niles’ sunglasses from his face, and put them in her pocket. Niles groaned but had no strength to resist. 

“You know, Lelouch wasn’t even that interested in that Daphne girl anyway,” C.C. told him.

“He…..wasn’t?” Niles slurred, raising his head with the last of his stamina.

C.C. bent down and dragged Lelouch to his feet with a smile. “Why would he be when he’s got me?”

“Well...that’s all right then…” Niles lay back down, spent.

Lelouch thought about replying to this, but decided not to. “I think Frasier passed out on the couch, could you go wake him up?” he asked instead. 

C.C. grabbed Frasier by his shoulders and somehow dragged his bulk behind the couch, where Lelouch waited.

Back by the television set, the partygoers sat frozen in anticipation, their eyes laser-focused on every pitch and their ears locked in on every word the announcer spoke.

“ _ One on, two out, Mariner’s lead by a score of 4 to 3. This crowd at Yankee Stadium can do nothing but watch, their team down to it’s last out. The city of Seattle can do nothing except watch, their team one out away from reaching its very first World Series In the box now is Gleyber Torres. Here comes Diaz’s first pitch, it is---” _

The partygoers held their breath

_ “SWUNG ON AND DRIVEN DEEP TO LEFT FIELD! IT’S A HOME RUN! THE YANKEES ARE GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES! HEARTBREAK IN SEATTLE!” _

The ensuing groans of frustration and screams of despair were so loud that no one overheard the other voice coming from the other side of the room, spoken to two men who could barely keep their eyes open.

“I, Lelouch vi Britannia, hereby command you to forget everything you know about Geass, including how to activate your powers.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Frasier and Niles droned.

“Okay, let’s get out of here,” C.C. declared. “The pizza places are going to be closed soon.”

“They probably already are,” Lelouch told her, which earned him a frown. She locked her arm with his and they made their way to the door. At the threshold, they stopped and took one last look at the assembled masses: the television watchers lay on the floor in a tableau of misery while Frasier and Niles looked in horror at what the party had become. Martin sat in his usual chair, too broken to even cry. Everything was in ruins.

“We’d better go before they blame us,” C.C. said quickly.

“Good idea.”

They bolted out the door and hurriedly pressed the elevator call button in the hallway. Once safely inside, they could fully take stock of the situation.

“It’s nice to not have to fight evil once in a while,” C.C. remarked on their way down. “They actually seemed like decent people, just a little strange.”

“I guess you’re right,” Lelouch replied. “Still, they really shouldn’t have access to Geass powers. Even without it, those brothers are a danger to themselves and others.”

“Quite.”

They stepped off the elevator at the ground floor and strolled across the lobby and into the night, where their next adventure awaited them.

***

Frasier’s memories were a bit fuzzy the next day, and he wasn’t in any hurry to refresh them over the breakfast table.

“Please, Daphne, I don’t want to hear any more!” he declared, pretending to be engrossed in his scrambled eggs. 

“But it’s true, everyone said they had a great time watching the game at your party!” Daphne protested. “And no one even called the police when Dr. Crane started swinging his sword around! They all said it was your most successful party ever!”

“Yes, how quirky,” Frasier replied sarcastically. “Don’t you think it’s strange that I would host a party for a  _ baseball  _ game? And who was that mysterious couple who showed up, ate everything, and then disappeared?” As Frasier ranted, Martin Crane made his way slowly into the room, bleary in the face, clutching a beer, and still wearing his Mariners regalia.

“Why I’m going to get to the bottom of what happened last night if it takes me until the next Opening Day, whenever that is!” Frasier declared.

“That’s in April,” Daphne told him smugly.

“Yes,  _ thank you. _ ”

Martin slammed his cane onto the breakfast table and spoke in a voice wracked with trauma. “Son, if you ever bring up last night again, your body will become acquainted with this cane in ways you cannot even begin to imagine.” He sat and ate with new dignity.

“Well, Dad, I have to say I agree with you!” Frasier said, smiling in jovial terror. “After all, who wants to think about sports anyway! Just a waste of time if you ask me!”

“You said it, son.”

“Well, there’s always the Premier League!” Daphne chimed in. “The season’s been going for a few months, but I find there’s nothing more exciting than sitting down on a Saturday morning and watching a match!”

The look she received from Frasier and Martin after her statement needs no description. The absurdity of the statement itself is enough.

_ Hey baby, I hear the blues a-callin' _

_ Tossed salads and scrambled eggs, oh my _

_ And maybe I seem a bit confused _

_ Yeah maybe, but I got you pegged! Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha! _

_ But I don't know what to do with those tossed salads and scrambled eggs _

_ They're callin' again. _

_ Goodnight Seattle, we love you! _


End file.
